Secret Sex Ninjas
by enemytosleep
Summary: Jean rejoins Team Mustang to Rebecca's delight.


"Since when have you worn skirts to the office?" Riza asked flatly.

"Since today," Rebecca answered. Riza gave her that look. "What? I need a reason to wear a skirt to work? Lots of female officers do."

"So this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that today is the captain's first day back, right?"

"No?" It had been impossible to find a regulation skirt short enough, so she'd gone and bought one that looked pretty damn regulation. By the looks Riza was giving her, it was indeed short enough. The shoes were nothing close to regulation whatsoever, but she was hoping to get away with them at least long enough for Jean to see. Heels did wonders for a woman's figure.

"I see," Riza said.

"Right. Well, I should get these reports down to Sciezka for filing." She gave Riza a very informal salute and headed off to the Investigations office clutching her stack of file folders and trying to breath easy.

Rebecca wasn't sure why she was so anxious. Really, they'd spent the night together once, and then he went back East. He'd called her once after he'd gotten out there - and it had been a _great_ call ... until his mother had walked in on his end. Going East to visit his family now could either be horribly awkward or horribly fun. How much fun it could be would depend on how much Jean liked messing with his folks. Wait, was she really thinking about meeting his family after one drunken night of sex and a dirty phone call?

Weird. Totally weird. She wasn't normally like this.

It had been almost a month since they'd seen each other. Jean had had to leave to go and pack up his life, finalize the transfer. Was it a transfer? Or was it re-enlisting? On paper he'd be strictly a desk guy, but as he'd explained to her over a shared cigarette that night after the party, he'd be doing a lot of behind the scenes dirty work for Mustang. The badass, dangerous, totally sexy kind of behind the scenes stuff.

"Hey," Breda called, breaking her out of her cycle of thoughts. "Nice seeing more of you, Becky." He gave her the up and down with a stupid grin on his face.

"Same here," she replied, tapping the folders in her hand on his stomach, his bottom button undone and shirt untucked. He laughed, low and short, then turned away with a little wink. The dirty dog.

O. O. O.

Rebecca was normally a big fan of irony. As she stood outside of the brigadier general's office, however, the humor was hard to find. She always tried to avoid coming here at all costs, yet here she was - in non-regulation dress no less - coming of her own volition and without a summon. Mustang would be sure to hold that over her somehow.

Calling forth a memory of large, muscly arms gripping the headboard above her for motivation, Rebecca approached Mustang's closed office door and knocked. Mustang called out from inside the office, and Rebecca let herself in.

"Ah, Catalina, wasn't expecting to see you," he said. Of course he wasn't - she had no legit reason for being here. "I..." He paused, bit his bottom lip, then continued, "Don't ever think i've seen you in office gear."

What? Oh right, the skirt. "Yeah, thought I'd try something different since I've been chained to my desk for so long." She hadn't meant that to sound so biting, really. Sometimes these things just sort of popped out of her mouth before she could think to stop them.

He narrowed his eyes, hands folded in front of his chin. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Captain?"

Oh, maybe she should have come up with an excuse before now? She was never really good at being a convincing liar when she was put on the spot like this. Perhaps a bit of honesty, then? That might throw him off a bit. "I came to see if the rumors were true: that the infamous Havoc had rejoined Team Mustang." She glanced over at Jean, his uniform jacket crisp and neat over the back of his chair. "It seems they were."

"I'm glad we could sate the people's curiosity. Might you have some work to attend to?"

"Yes, Sir. Just thought I'd welcome back our new teammate." She stepped forward and offered Jean her hand to shake.

He looked from her hand to her legs, then back to her face as he took her hand. His eyes sparkled when he smiled at her. Damn, what a fucking great smile he had. Definitely needed to lose the goatee though. Now that she'd had the time to go back and find old pictures of the team before her own transfer under Mustang, she'd decided Jean's baby face needed airing. She would take care of that later.

And then there was something that needed to be taken care of much, much sooner.

She tried not to be too obvious when she squeezed her thighs together, attempting to mask the motion as she straightened back up to full height and tugged down her skirt. Jean's eyes flicked back down to her legs. Rebecca glanced over at Mustang, who quickly turned away and twiddled his thumbs, feigning boredom. He had totally been checking out her ass. Ha! The pervert.

"I'll be going now, Sir." She winked at Jean, and he winked back.

"Thank you, Catalina," Mustang replied.

She started walking out of the room, but suddenly lost control of the pen she slipped from her pocket and purposely lost control of. She bent over to retrieve it, taking care not to lose her balance what with the high heels and all. The brigadier general cleared his throat.

"Maybe we can meet for lunch later on?" Jean called out.

"I'd love that," she replied.

Brigadier General Mustang was an odd shade of green.

O. O. O.

"A closet? Do you really think-"

"Shut up and get in here, soldier." She leaned forward and grabbed his lapel to coax him in.

He didn't need much coaxing - he wheeled himself forward quite eagerly with that cute grin plastered on.

The closet was pretty spacious as far as closets go, but there wouldn't a whole lot of room to play with once the door was shut. Hm.

"Maybe I should back in right up against the back shelf?" Jean suggested.

"Yeah, I think that'll work." She stepped back out into the hall and let him re-enter the closet. This time it was Jean who was leading her in by the bottom of her waist coat.

She offered him a little sexy grin as she closed the door behind her.

O. O. O.

Somehow, perhaps not so surprisingly, they'd gone from making out to groping, and now Rebecca was standing legs spread and bent over with her forehead against the closet door. Her skirt had been pushed up her hips, and her stringy panties - he seemed to really love them - moved to the side to make way for Jean's face. It was awesome.

She gently pushed back and circled her hips as he worked her over with his tongue. She had to really concentrate on being quiet, because quite frankly, he was doing a hell of a job. She had thought she'd flirt a little and maybe get a dinner invite, which she had hoped would eventually end up at his or at hers, but this was turning out to be so much better.

Somewhere outside the door, there were some voices. They were very muffled at first - and really, Rebecca wasn't exactly concentrating on anything but what Jean was doing - but the voices grew louder and clearer each moment. Was someone coming in here? No, that was unlikely. The good inkwells were in the other closet down the hall. They were probably just walking by. Still, Rebecca sucked in a deep breath and held it so she wouldn't make any noise. Then she could tell who was talking and what they were saying. _Oh shit_.

"I don't fucking get why I have to go and report to the bastard in person when he can just read the damn report I had to spend all that time typing-"

The door flew open stupidly fast with Rebecca's weight leaned on it, and she came tumbling out before she could grab hold of anything. Jean had let go of her hips, which sucked in the _I'm falling over now, 'kay, thanks_ way, but was kind of smart in the _there's nothing going on in here, just getting some typewriter ribbon_ way. She ending up grabbing Fullmetal to keep from bashing her face in on an automail chest plate or something other; the kid was half metal, she couldn't remember where it was supposed to be flesh or not.

"Uh, are you alright?" Fullmetal asked.

"Yeah, she was just giving me a tour of the new office. Right, Captain?" Jean offered. Another good call; Rebecca could play along.

"Oh, yeah, was just showing him how much storage we have in the new office." She let go of the kid's shoulders - one metal, one not, right, remember that - and stood up, brushing herself off and straightening her uniform. The kid didn't look like he believed any of it. He had one of those faces that beautifully magnified every little thought of his. Standing next to him with an expression that was part dubious, part horrified, was one of the new warrant officers that had just transferred in. Was it Fletcher? She couldn't remember his name. What was his problem? Why was he staring at them like that?

"Is there a problem?" She asked the new guy.

The guy flicked his eyes between Jean and her and shook his head. "No, ma'am."

He looked back at Jean. Was it the chair? Oh, that was low. Then Matthews-what's-his-name looked back at her - but not her face? Ah, so he was checking her out. That made sense. This must be that guy thing where they congratulate each other silently on a good catch. She did look pretty damn good right now.

"Good. You can carry on, then."

Fullmetal was still eying them. "Could Captain Havoc hand me some paper and a yellow marker, first? You know, because some people come to supply closets for supplies." What a little shit. It was a good thing he was so pretty, or she'd possibly not like him anymore.

"No problem, Boss." Jean said, pivoting around to grab the requested items from the shelves next to him. And hey, Fullmetal wasn't going to say anything, now was he? The pretty face might not be enough to cover that slight. The brotherhood of Team Mustang was about to be tested.

"Thanks," Fullmetal said once he took the supplies from Jean. "You should maybe try locking the door if you're going to spend some time in there." He was grinning like a loon now. Okay, so he did have a sense of humor. Guess he was still in the good books, tight little ass and all.

"You got it, Boss."

"We'll do that," she replied, winking.

The kid was all but laughing now. "Take care," he said, clapping probably-Dino on the back as he turned to head back to the office. Dino followed after. Hopefully they'd keep quiet about what just happened. Just in case, though, they should probably move on out. Jean came up beside her with a question in his eyes.

She squeezed his shoulder. "So I'll see you here around 1300 tomorrow?"

"Wha - you think we should really meet back here? After..."

"Well yeah. No one will expect us to use the same place twice, right?"

He visibly turned the idea over in his head for a minute. "I guess so."

"Good." She leaned in to nose his ear. "Tomorrow afternoon, then."

O. O. O.

Two weeks later at the end of the working day, as Rebecca gathered her things to leave (Brigadier Bastard had sequestered Jean in his office earlier this afternoon for some stratagem discussion that was really cramping their scheduled fumble), Riza approached her desk with a memo in hand. "I've been lax in reminding you of the dress code lately, but I really must insist that you wear regulation uniform pants. Your position on the team as gunman requires you to be ready for pursuit at all times." She glanced downward. "Make sure and find your boots while you unearth your slacks."

Rebecca gave her a flat look. "Right, ma'am. I'll be sure and do that."

Riza narrowed her eyes a bit. "Glad to hear it. Also," she handed Rebecca the memo, "effective immediately, there is a new supply protocol in the office. If anyone needs something from the office inventory or supply, it must be approved by me before hand." There was a little grin in Riza's eyes, like she was enjoying this.

Rebecca took that as a challenge to step up her game - she and Jean would totally be secret sex ninjas by the end of this.


End file.
